if you don't have to consciously 'know' how you were left isolated and alone by your parents, then you don't ever have to face up to the absolutely terrifying fears of abandonment that accompany such deprivation, at a most soul-searing level.
If you define autonomy as a position of strength, then such language can hold the night terrors at bay. Maybe. Or, with a little help from our friends, Jack D., or possibly prozac, whatever your soul-numbing medication of choice might be.
If only we could reach for true healing, instead. If only we could learn to reach for each other, instead of curling in on ourselves like little hermit crabs, like the sea anemones that fold themselves up out of sight when touched.
Monday, June 1, 2009
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